Different sets of rules
by Magic Maryse
Summary: There are many rules in Columbia; the ones that have been imposed on its citizens by Comstock himself and those that have been made by people in private. One of said rules is that, on Sundays, people are not allowed to work. Rosalind Lutece, physicist extraordinaire, however, has long ago decided that she has her own set of rules and quitting work on Sundays is not one of them.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so this is a rather spontaneous thing here that came into my mind and I just had to write it down. I'm a bit late with a Bioshock fanfic, I know that, but since I have only recently even discovered the games - shame on me - I couldn't write anything about it any sooner. ;)

Actually, this is supposed to be a oneshot only but I don't know if I am really done with it because there is something else that's on my mind here - possibly more from Rosalind's POV - so I'm leaving this open right now.

Nevertheless, enjoy reading it and perhaps (pretty please xD) leave behind a short Review about whether you have like it or not! :)

* * *

There are many rules in Columbia; the ones that have been imposed on its citizens by Comstock himself and are therefore part of the Columbian law and those that have been made by people in private. The latter may or may not be obeyed while the former have and will have to be obeyed.

One of said rules is that on Sundays, being the last day of the week, people are officially not allowed to work.

Rosalind Lutece, physicist extraordinaire and mother of Columbia, however, has long ago decided that she has her own set of rules and quitting work on a Sunday is not one of them. She is bent over a ridiculously high pile of papers, taking notes or drawing new graphs concerning their latest discoveries while her brother is watching her with an amused glint in his eyes from the couch they have bought recently – after Robert stating that a comfortable seating device other than the red armchair might be good to prevent one of them having to sit at the desk when reading a book.

"Are you sure you don't want to take a break?" He asks, a glass of Brandy in his hand. "It has, after all, been a terribly long week."

Rosalind looks up from her current task and gives him an angry glare. "No, because there are still too many things that have yet to be done," she snaps. "And unlike you, brother dearest, I am not neglecting my work. You could quit being lazy and actually be of help here, but as I see it, you aren't going to lend me a hand with this."

Robert can't prevent the smile that is tugging at his lips which slightly annoys her even further. He always finds her utterly adorable when she is angry or frustrated but he keeps that thought to himself.

"I'm not being lazy, sister," he replies politely. "I am merely putting my mind to rest. You should give it a try as well, Rosalind. A small glass of Brandy and a well written book can work wonders."

She simply scoffs and turns her attention back to work. Robert shakes his head and takes another sip of Brandy, the liquor burning slightly in his throat.

He likes to watch her sometimes, more often than not as of lately which still confuses him a little but he can't help it. Rosalind doesn't know she is beautiful, at least he thinks she doesn't as all his compliments are always turned down by an arched eyebrow or a dismissive gesture of her hand. Robert won't stop complimenting her though, giving hints of it every so often but she wouldn't accept them. He hates to think of her as his sister but as a separate human being because that's what she is really. They are not siblings, they are not even related in any way – they simply have the same parents in different realities and all that separates them is a single chromosome.

"It is getting rather late," Robert tries again. "Maybe you should retire for the day and finish this tomorrow."

When she doesn't react, he sighs and empties the glass. Rosalind can be stubborn sometimes. Too stubborn for her own good, he thinks as he puts away the book he's been reading all evening and goes over to the kitchen to place his glass on the counter before returning to his sister.

"Come on now, Rosalind." He stands behind her, hands put firmly on her shoulders. "Take a break, it's getting late."

Rosalind stiffens underneath his touch. "This is quite important and I-"

"Everything we do is important," Robert interrupts. "That doesn't mean we should spend the rest of our lives without even a minute of sleep or rest. You've been staying up way too long lately, do not think I don't know that."

He means to chide her but fails miserably.

His hands loosen their grip slightly as Robert begins to massage her neck and shoulders, trying to convince her to comply. He can feel her relax underneath him and knows he has won this battle. It's always the same; they have an argument or difference in opinion and even though Rosalind stubbornly tries to keep the upper hand, Robert always knows how to get her to surrender. It's a game they've been playing ever since he stepped foot into her reality. He knows which buttons to press which does not mean that he is wearing the pants in their complex relationship, as Fink would put it. Robert clenches his jaw, thinking of the man who constantly tries to get the ownership of their patents.

"Fine," Rosalind snaps again and puts away her pen.

She is not happy about losing tonight, he can tell but she would not dare come back later when he is asleep, that he knows.

They turn out the lights and make their way upstairs where their bedroom is located, both of them preparing for the night.

Of course, Robert is finished long before his sister. Another thing he has come accustomed to over the three years he has been in Columbia with her. It takes Rosalind exactly thirty-three minutes to get ready for bed, not that he is counting.

Robert always enjoys watching her undo her hair and brushing it afterwards. He can't help but wonder how soft it must feel between his fingers but is too afraid of the reaction he might get from her to even ask her.

When she is done, she settles down next to him and he blows out the last of the remaining candles.

Rosalind has her back turned towards him, her red hair shimmering in the silvery light of the moon and this time Robert cannot restrain his hands from sliding through it, letting it glide between his fingers. It's as soft as silk and Robert smiles, happy that his theory is proven right this time.

"Brother," Rosalind mumbles, though her voice is clear in the complete silence of their home. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Robert answers and for a moment he is unsure of whether it has been the right decision to give into his urges. "I am just proving a theory, that's all."

She turns around and arches an eyebrow at him, her blue eyes watching him coolly. "And which theory might that be?"

"That your hair is as smooth as it looks like." That's all he says before she turns around again, facing away from him. "Looks like I was proven right this time."

A quiet "Hmpf" was all Robert received from his sister.

* * *

That's it for now. It's a bit short, roughly around 1.1K words but as I mentioned before it was originally meant to be a oneshot (with a possible sequel lol). :)

Thanks for reading, guys! ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys!

So I'm back with another oneshot about our favourite couple in Infinite. ;) The weather in Germany is playing crazy at the moment, the temperatures are jumping up and down every day (a range from -4°C and 10°C) which asically means that, one day, we get a lot of snow and the next one it's all gone again. :(

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little piece of text I wrote and leave behind a Review. :)

* * *

Rosalind is not a morning person; a trait she considers to be an annoyingly persistent flaw. One she cannot seem to get rid of, which, ultimately, makes it such an annoyance. She knows that the mind is freshest in the morning, that it is the most productive and focused in the first half of the day, but she just can't bring herself to like working early.

Robert on the other hand seems to be the happiest when starting his day as soon as the sun appears on the horizon – in summer that is. Rosalind decides that she will never truly understand her brother's enthusiasm in the morning. He is awake hours before she even opens her eyes for the first time, roaming through their paper work or taking down notes about new theories.

Sometimes, she would stop at the entrance to their lab just to watch him for a few minutes, before picking up what she'd been doing the previous day.

It is early in December in 1898, the wind is howling rather harshly through the streets of Columbia that are already buried below thick layers of snow. The colder seasons are never kind in the city that's floating high above the world below but this year's winter seems to be especially merciless.

Another good reason for Rosalind to stay in bed until the temperatures have gone up to an acceptable number. However, she had come to the realization earlier this week that it doesn't matter when she gets out of the comfortable warmth of her blanket, the cold would not falter.

Sitting at her desk now, it is just a few minutes after seven in the morning, Rosalind shivers even though she's wearing more layers of clothing than usually. The fire in the chimney has been burning for merely half an hour, the orange and yellow flames dancing around each other in a fashionable display but to her discomfort, they don't spend enough heat for her freezing body to warm up.

"Really," she says to no one in particular. "Is there a reason for winters to be this merciless each year?"

On the other side of the room Robert chuckles lightly. "You seem to be the only person here to mind the cold, dear Rosalind."

She glares at him over the edge of a paper she's holding. "I am pretty sure that there is more than one person in this city that does mind the cold. It's not my fault that you are immune to low temperatures, brother."

There is an amused glint in his eyes when he laughs at her comment. She is always rather snappy in the morning, he has come to realize, especially so during the colder seasons of the year.

"I'm afraid I do have to disappoint you there, sister," Robert replies and puts aside the blanket he has used to warm himself up. "Contrary to your belief, I am not immune to low temperatures. But I may have a solution to your problem."

His tone is light and a hint of amusement lingers in it. Rosalind doesn't understand what's so entertaining about her dismay and, therefore, gives her brother another angry glare which he rewards with a wink and an open smile before he leaves their study.

She huffs and focuses her mind back on the paper she is still holding in her terribly cold hands. It is a very raw plan of a newly developed idea they have on a faster delivery of letters. Right now, it is no more than a theoretical approach written down on paper, but Rosalind already has an image in mind of how to proceed.

Robert returns to the study fifteen minutes later, a steaming cup of tea in his hand that he carefully places on the small table next to the couch.

She frowns.

"Robert," Rosalind says with disbelief. "Have you really just gone into the kitchen with the promise to solve my problem, only to make yourself a cup of tea?"

He looks at her slightly confused, then, when he sees her serious expression, Robert can't help but laugh openly at his sister – much to Rosalind's annoyance.

"I really don't understand what could possibly be so funny about this, brother!" She's getting slightly mad at him, Robert knows, but there is something utterly adoring about seeing her like this.

"So you think," he starts, walking over to the desk she's sitting at and gently tugs the paper out of her hand. "That I would truly make you suffer even more after the terrible, almost unbearable torture you've gone through so far?"

The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.

"Yes!" Rosalind exclaims and reaches for the paper Robert has just taken away from her. "You're obviously taking delight in seeing me suffer, brother. Now hand me back those notes, I have work to do!"

He shakes his head and puts the paper away, just out of her reach so Rosalind has to get up in order to retrieve it. She is about to stomp past her brother when his arm sneaks around her waist from behind, drawing her with him to the couch.

She lets out a surprised "Robert!" when he pulls her down onto his lap and wraps the blanket around their bodies. He shifts them a little so they half sit, half lie on the couch and Robert's back rests against the armrest.

"Now, dearest Rosalind," Robert says from behind her and Rosalind could feel him smirk. One arm is still around her waist, the other one offers her the cup of tea. "Would you kindly like to drink the tea I made for you?"

For a moment, she simply stares at the steaming cup in front of her and an embarrassed flush creeps into her cheeks as she finally takes it.

"Thank you, Robert," she mumbles and he chuckles.

"Anything for you, dear," he replies smugly and she leans back into him and relaxes her muscles. "I would never let myself suffer from freezing."

Despite her earlier annoyance with him, his last comment makes Rosalind chuckle.

"But you took immense joy in _watching_ me suffer."

Rosalind tilts her head a little, which is now resting on his shoulder, so she can look at her counterpart's face.

He presses a soft kiss on top of her hair. "No, but I do love to annoy you, dear. You are utterly adorable when you're frustrated."

She sighs and finishes her tea, the hot liquid sending warm waves through her body that, despite making her muscles stop trembling, don't entirely reach her fingers. She places the cup on the table next to them and turns around a little.

"Better?" Robert asks and strokes her hair.

Rosalind nods. "A little, though my fingers are still cold."

She rests her forehead on his neck, breathing in his scent and her entire body seems to relax with the knowledge that she is totally safe with him.

Robert puts his arms around her and holds her close. He is aware of the intimacy of their current position but finds himself unable to push her away.

He draws in a shaky breath when her icy hands slip under his shirt and she apologizes with a quiet "Sorry."

The touch of her soft fingers on his skin send shivers through his veins; delightful little waves that make his heart beat faster. He looks down at the woman in his arms who, despite the early hour, has her eyes closed and is sleeping peacefully on top of him.

A smile crosses his features as he catches a lose strand of her fiery red hair and tugs it behind her ear. Only Rosalind could fall asleep at this time of the day, he mused. _His_ Rosalind.

It is not the first time he notices his body react in such a manner to her physical contact, but it is the first time that Robert actually realizes he may be in love with her.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm back with another piece about the Luteces! ;)

I'm not happy with this one and it took me forever to write it even though it's only a short text. I don't have a beta who looks over these oneshots (that are not really oneshots anymore xD) and I'm not a native speaker but if you find any mistakes (and I'm sure you will), please let me know so I can correct them.

Also, it would be kind if you could just let me know what you think about this here. ;)

* * *

 **Voxophone recording, Rosalind Lutece, 18** **th** **May 1899:**

 _"_ _It has been almost six years since my brother stepped through the tear. His mind seems to have completely adjusted to this new reality; he has not hemorrhaged in nearly two and a half years. However, I have sensed a feeling of discomfort on his behalf. I am not certain what causes it, but I do intend to ask him if the opportunity presents itself this evening."_

 **Voxophone recording, Rosalind Lutece, 29** **th** **May 1899:**

 _"_ _As usual, my brother dismissed my question when I asked him about the origin of his discomfort. We spent the rest of the evening in silence, each of us tending to our own task. When I woke up this morning, my brother was already gone. I already feared the worst; that he had left me and returned to his own reality. I found a note on my nightstand instead, stating that he had gone for a walk to clear his head."_

 **Voxophone recording, Rosalind Lutece, 11** **th** **June 1899:**

 _"_ _My brother went for a walk again this morning. By the time he returned, it was almost dawn and by the smell of it, he was clearly drunk. I am at a loss of a theory in this case and, therefore, cannot provide a solution that would satisfy the both of us for as long as he refuses to talk to me. I worry about him, naturally. He is my brother, the closest human being I have to a family and I will not simply give up on him. If he does not see reason, I will have to present him with an ultimatum."_

They are eating their supper in silence, _again_. And this time, it is only so much Rosalind can take.

She puts aside her spoon and looks across the table at the man who is and is not herself, lips pressed to a thin line.

"Brother, if you refuse to tell me what's bothering you," she starts with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I am afraid I'm not able to continue like this any longer."

Robert lifts his glance to look at his sister. He remains silent, however, and Rosalind sighs exasperatedly.

"You are my brother, Robert, and I worry about you a great deal," she tries again. "You leave early in the morning to go god knows where and return late at night, sometimes too drunk to even walk straight! How am I to figure out what to do if you don't talk to me?"

Again, her words are met with silence.

Rosalind closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "This is getting ridiculous now, Robert. I did not want to do this, but you seem to leave me no other choice." She pushes back her chair and stands up. "If you refuse to talk to me and tell me what's bothering you, I will have to ask you to leave."

Her words are final but they don't trigger any kind of reaction from Robert who continues eating his soup as if nothing happened. The fact that her own brother, the only person in the depths of the multiverse who truly understands her, is showing her the cold shoulder, stings.

"Very well," Rosalind snaps. "It's settled then."

She turns around and leaves the kitchen without another word before he can see the tears that run down her cheeks.

After Rosalind is gone, Robert finishes his meal in an eerie silence. This one is almost worse than the one he has been sharing with his counterpart for the last month. It was around Christmas when he first figured out that he was in love with Rosalind. He thought he could ignore it to a certain degree and go on like they had before; he had thought wrong. Robert can no longer hide the desire to touch her, to be near her and it's eating him up. He cannot think of her as his sister anymore but she continues to call him 'brother' and he tries to keep up the façade. He knows that he is failing miserably, that avoiding her is no long-term solution to his problems but he can't tell her. If he gave in to his feelings and anyone were to find out, what would they do to her? They are in no way related but Robert would rather leave Rosalind than blemish her reputation.

When Robert ascends the stairs to the upper floor, he hesitates before entering their bedroom. Rosalind has the light turned off but he doesn't need it to find his way around and so he gets ready for bed in the darkness.

Robert only lights a candle when he goes into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He doesn't look at his reflection in the mirror, already knowing what it would look like; tired with dark circles around his eyes. The cool water feels good against his skin but does little to freshen his exhausted mind. Robert has not been himself lately, the last thing he needs now is a reminder of his current state.

He returns to the other room and creeps into bed besides Rosalind who has her back turned to him, the white blanket drawn up over her shoulders.

It takes him a while to notice that her entire body is shaking.

"Rosalind?" Robert asks and reaches out to her. "Are you… are you crying?"

She stills and he can hear her take in a shaky breath but he doesn't get a reply.

Robert has never seen her cry before and it suddenly hits him that, perhaps, he is not the only one who has not been feeling well about all this.

"I don't want to leave you, Rosalind," Robert says and moves closer to her. "I'm just… I don't know how to tell you…"

He puts his arm around her and she stiffens a little. Robert pulls back.

He is at a loss of words.

"You never call me 'sister'," Rosalind's voice sounds through the darkness but she doesn't turn around. "Why is that?"

Robert gulps. He's been expecting this question ever since December and now the inevitable has finally arrived. He doesn't know how to respond. "We're in no way related, Rosalind."

Of course, she has an argument against his logic. "I am aware of that, _brother_ , "she counters. "However, we cannot simply tell people the truth about us."

He thinks of what to say next, trying to choose his words carefully without giving away too much of the turmoil going on in his head. Apparently, it has taken him too long to come up with a reasonable phrase to say because Rosalind raises her voice again.

"Is it me, then?" She asks, still refusing to look at him and the question truly catches him off guard.

"What?"

"Well, obviously, if it's not other people you have a problem with it _has_ to be me," she remarks with a sniff. "Is it something I said? Really, Robert, if you are unhappy here, we can always send you back. I won't stand in your way."

For a moment there, all he can do is stare at her back in disbelief. When has their relationship gotten this far out of hand? Robert doesn't want to hurt her; he never intended to in the first place, but here she is, assuming that his behavior is her fault entirely.

"By all means, Rosalind, no!" Robert's eyes widen and he reaches out to her again. "It's not your fault. I…" He runs his hand through his hair, messing it up a little. "Calling you my sister would imply a strictly familial relationship and I…"

Robert stops himself before he can make things worse, realizing the possible impact his words could have, but they're already out and hang heavily between them.

Rosalind finally turns around; her eyes are reddened from crying and tears still shine on her pale cheeks and Robert uses his thumb to gently wipe them away.

"What kind of relationship do you want, then?" She whispers, her voice hoarse as she looks at him.

He can't find the right words to tell her what it is that he wants, or how wrong it would be in the eyes of the everyone else. Robert is sure that she is going to tell him to leave for what he is about to do next but there is no escaping the conversation now, not after what he has just said.

He slides his hand behind her head and into her silky hair, pulling her closer to him while inwardly bracing himself for some sort of resistance from her part. To his own surprise, however, it doesn't come; not even when his lips meet hers for the first time. Instead, Rosalind sighs into the kiss, her delicate body pressing closer to his taller frame and one of her hands finds its way to his own messy hair.

Robert is the first one to pull away. He is slightly out of breath as he looks down at his counterpart's face that shimmers in the silvery moonlight shining through the window and lets his fingers trace the outline of her features that looked so very much like his own.

"Took you long enough," Rosalind mumbles with a smile, her hand drawing lazy circles on the back of his head.

Again, she manages to catch him by surprise. "So my feelings are not one-sided?"

Relief washes over him when she shakes her head.

"Then I shall make it official now." Robert says softly. "I love you."

He is rewarded with the most heart-warming, loving smile he has ever seen from her. Smiles in themselves are a rarity when it comes to Rosalind Lutece and to know that this one is honestly meant for him, and only for him to see, makes it so much more special.

"Again," she whispers and presses a light kiss to his jaw. "Say it again…"

"I love you," Robert repeats hoarsely and relishes the feeling of her soft lips on his skin.

"I love you, too."


End file.
